Wonder Woman: Warbringer (DC Icons #1)

She could not risk it. She could not risk her sisters’ lives for the sake of a girl she barely knew. She’d been foolish to dive into the sea this morning, but she could make the right choice now.

The earth rumbled beneath Diana’s feet. Lightning split the sky. She hitched her pack more securely on her shoulders and headed for the cave. Alia was dying. If Diana could not save her, at least she could make sure she did not die alone.





The giant was back. Alia thought that maybe after the wreck, in her panicked, adrenaline-fueled state, she’d exaggerated the details of her rescuer. But, no, the girl was back in the cave, and she was just as Alia remembered her—six feet tall and gorgeous, built like someone who could sell weird fitness equipment on late-night television. The Ab Blaster. The Biceps Monger.

Maybe I’m delirious. She knew she had a fever and chills, but she couldn’t make sense of her symptoms. The headache and the nausea could be the result of a concussion. No doubt she’d been banged around pretty badly when the Thetis went down. But she didn’t want to think about that—the shock of the explosion, Ray screaming, the gray weight of the water as it dragged her down. Every time her mind brushed up against it, her thoughts stuttered to a stop. Better to focus on the cave, the blanket tucked around her, the terrible pounding in her head. If it was just a bad concussion, then her job was to stay awake until help came—and she’d done it. Here was help. In the form of a girl who looked like a supermodel who moonlighted as a cage fighter. Or vice versa. But where was the rescue team? The helicopter? The EMTs to flash a light in Alia’s eyes and tell her everything was going to be all right?

“Just you?” she croaked, unnerved by how weak her voice sounded.

The girl sat down beside her. “Have you eaten anything?”

“Not hungry.”

“At least some water?” Alia didn’t have the strength. Dimly, she was aware of something being pressed to her lips. “Drink,” the girl commanded.

Alia managed a few sips. “Is help coming?”

The girl hesitated. “I’m afraid not.”

Alia opened her eyes fully. She’d succeeded in keeping her panic in check so far, but she could feel it trying to claw free. “Is it the earthquakes?” At the first tremor, Alia had dragged herself to the cave opening, terrified the rock above her would give way and she’d be crushed. But one glance at the drop to the sea had sent her scrambling backward. She’d huddled in her blanket, fighting her rising fear. One thing at a time, she’d told herself. I’m on an island—maybe there’s volcanic activity. Just wait for help to come. She’d done her part. She’d kept conscious, managed not to expend her energy on crying or screaming. So where was her rescue?

The girl’s expression was troubled, her gaze trained on her sandaled feet. Alia realized she’d changed clothes. Back on the beach she’d worn some type of white tunic, but now she was in brown leather trousers and what looked like a cross between a tank top and a sports bra. “This island is very isolated,” she said. “It’s…Contacting help wasn’t possible.”

“Then the rest of the crew…?”

“I’m sorry. I wish I could have saved them all.”

Her words didn’t quite make sense to Alia. Nothing did. She closed her eyes, the ache of tears filling her throat. Her best friend, Nim, liked to joke that Alia was a jinx because trouble seemed to follow her everywhere. Fights erupted at parties. Couples started arguing over nothing. Then there was that time a free concert in Central Park had somehow turned into a riot. It didn’t seem so funny now.

Thinking about Nim, about home, about the safety of her own bed, made the tears spill over.

“Were they your close companions?” the girl asked quietly.

“I barely knew them,” Alia admitted. “I need a doctor. There’s something wrong. I think I hit my head during the wreck. There may be internal bleeding.” Though even as she spoke, she realized that since the girl had appeared, the pain in her head had receded. Maybe she’d been more dehydrated than she realized.

“There was an explosion on your craft,” said the girl. “Before it sank.”

Alia leaned her head back against the cave wall. “I remember.”

“On the beach, you said it was your fault.”

Those words felt like a fist pressed against her heart. “I did? I must not have been thinking clearly.”

“Do you think…Is it possible it was intentional? Some kind of bomb?”

Alia’s eyes flew open. “What are you talking about?”

“Could the wreck have been deliberate?”

“No, of course not, it…” Alia hesitated. All of Jason’s paranoid warnings came back to her. We’re targets, Alia. Our money. The Foundation. We have to be smart.

Smart meant trained bodyguards on staff at the penthouse. It meant an armed driver to take her to school every morning and drop her off every afternoon. It meant no class field trips, schedules that accounted for every minute of her day so that Jason always knew where she was, summers spent in the same place each year, seeing the same people, staring out at the same view. It was a good view. Alia knew she had nothing to complain about. But that didn’t stop you, did it? She’d been happy to whine to Nim on every occasion. And she’d pretty much jumped at a chance for something new, a month spent with different people, away from Jason’s ridiculous rules.

Maybe not so ridiculous. Could someone have put a bomb aboard the boat? Could one of the crew have blown up the Thetis on purpose?

Her fears must have shown on her face, because the girl leaned forward and said, “Speak. Is it possible?”

Alia didn’t want to believe it. If someone had been willing to blow up her boat, to murder innocent people just to get at her and the Foundation, then Jason had been right about everything and she’d been the biggest fool alive.

“It’s possible,” she admitted reluctantly. “I’m a Keralis.”

“A Greek name.”

“My dad was Greek. My mom was black, from New Orleans.” People always wanted to know where the color came from. Alia reached for the water. She really did feel a little better, though her hand shook as she lifted the skin to her lips. The girl steadied Alia’s arm as she drank. “Thanks. You’ve never heard of the Keralis Foundation? Keralis Labs?”

“No. What does that have to do with the explosion?”

Alia felt suddenly wary. “Who are you?”

“I’m…My name’s Diana.”

“Diana what?”

“Why does my name matter?”

Why? Because even if this girl lived on a remote island, everyone knew the Keralis name. That was part of the problem.

How had Diana gotten to the wreck site so quickly? What if she’d known about the bomb on the boat? Alia gave her head a little shake and was rewarded with a stomach-churning wave of dizziness that left her panting. She pressed her head against the cave wall and waited for it to pass. She wasn’t thinking straight. There was no reason for a girl to try to kill her, then save her life and stuff her in a cave. “People hate my parents; now they hate me.”

“I see,” said Diana in understanding. “Did your parents slay a great many people?”

“What?” Alia cast her a sidelong glance. “They were biologists. Bioengineers. People get weird about some of the work they did in genetics and the Foundation’s politics.”

Diana’s brow furrowed, as if she was attempting to parse all of this information. “You think that’s why someone attempted to take your life?”

“Why else?”

The girl said nothing. Alia felt another tide of nausea roll through her. A cold sweat broke out over her body. “I need a doctor.”

“There’s no one on the island who can help you.”

“A clinic. A boat back to Istanbul or the nearest port.”

“It’s just not possible.”

Alia stared at Diana, feeling her panic slip free of its leash. “Then what’s going to happen to me?”

Diana looked away.

Alia pressed her palms to her eyes, humiliated to find tears threatening again. She didn’t understand what was going on, only that she’d never felt more tired or scared. Not since she was a kid. How had things gone so wrong so quickly?